Wallflower
by Veta
Summary: Naruto: Male, 19 years old, bisexual. Recently dumped; currently head-over-heels for the darkly attractive and absurdly intelligent Sasuke. Cliché? Nah. AU SasuNaruSasu
1. Intro

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for ten fingers and a fanciful imagination.

* * *

_Intro_

* * *

I'm normally good at this sort of thing.

I make a joke. They laugh. Idle chatter ensues. Eventually, I ask them out on a date. Normally, they accept. But somehow, that scenario just doesn't seem right.

No, not with _him._

His name is Sasuke. Sasuke Uchiha. He's been in my anthropology class since the beginning of the year.

That was nearly four months ago.

Somehow, he _infatuates _me. It's insane. I didn't begin to even really think about it until a month or so ago. He had raised his hand to answer a question. And his _voice… _the monotone, half-interested tone of it somehow caught me by surprise. He had spoken before in class, I'm sure. But I had never really listened. I had never realized how perfectly deep and smooth his tantalizing voice actually _was. _It reminds me of a cello, almost. And his lips are like two strings that I would love to pluck.

Incidentally, it isn't just his voice that's appealing. _Hardly. _Sasuke is the type of guy who could "turn straight men gay," so to speak. His pale skin is free of any freckles or blemishes, and it hardly ever flushes. The only time I've seen any amount of color in his face is when the AC broke down in August.

I'm just not sure how to approach him. I've seen him in the hallways a few times—he's always alone. Occasionally, a girl will come and try to initiate a conversation, but he finds some sort of suave way to send her away.

I don't want that to happen to me.

I want him to be interested enough to _look _at me, at least. Somehow, I don't think that using my lame-ass jokes will cut it.

Ah, here he is now.

Usually, he's the first one here. But lately, I've been waking up a good thirty-seven minutes earlier in order to get in class before him. Just to see the single second that it takes for him to duck his head and walk through the doorway.

I don't know what's so intriguing about it. When he enters the classroom, it seems like he is completely aware of his surroundings without even lifting his gaze to examine it. Then, of course, there's the fact that his hair is always _wet_. Not to the point of dripping, but damp enough to cling to his face. It's so irresistibly sexy and seeing it is a far superior way of beginning the day then buying a 4 cup of coffee from Starbucks.

The teacher isn't even here yet. Technically, we're here alone. But I know that he won't say anything.

And neither will I.

* * *


	2. Of Friendly Advice and Brave Cowardice

_

* * *

_

_Of Friendly Advice and Brave Cowardice_

_

* * *

_I've begun making a list of the things that I've figured out merely observing Sasuke.

1. He doesn't like sweets. In September, he caught a cold and a girl offered him a peppermint. He declined. Perhaps he just didn't want the candy, but I feel that my assumption has reasonable grounds.

2. Despite #1, he likes gum. The spearmint flavor. If I study his mouth, I'll occasionally see a glimpse of lime-green colored gum flash between his pearly whites.

3. He plays an instrument. Though he is hardly the most social person in the classroom, he seems to like being recognized for getting the correct answers. As thus, he often raises his hand.. and lately, I've noticed that he has calluses on his fingers. I'm always hearing girls swoon about how wealthy he is, so I doubt that it's from whacking weeds or something.

4. He likes to be uncomfortable. Maybe it keeps his apathetic façade in check, I don't know. But why else would you wear starchy dress clothes and those shoes that old guys wear that chafe your ankles and shove all your toes together?

5. Sasuke is smart. He's the kind of student that everyone hates; the student who can do homework without reading the text and ace a test without having studied at all. I'm positive about this one. I just _know. _

* * *

"Naruto, how many times do I have to tell you to put on your clothes _before _coming back to the room? You might be cool with seeing another guy's junk every day, but I happen to be one hundred percent straight."

That's my roommate, Neji. He simply doesn't appreciate the human body as much as I do, I guess. What's so wrong with being naked, anyway? A long time ago, they didn't even _have _clothes. Like five hundred years ago or something. Yeah.

"Whatever, dude." I'm just not in the mood to rant about society's overpowering influence concerning what we today feel is acceptable or improper.

I think that's why my favorite class in high school was psych/soc. I like figuring out how and why the human mind works. It has helped me learn how to read people. But for some reason, I can never decipher whatever it is that Sasuke's thinking.

"Something wrong, Naruto?"

Crap. You know, whenever I don't have a smile on my face, people assume that something's wrong. Can't a guy think in peace?

"Nope. Nothing."

"…Alright. I'm going to the deli with Hinata for brunch…do you want me to bring you back anything?"

Weird. Neji _never _does anything that could even be remotely considered nice.

"No thanks. I think I'll call Sakura and see if she wants to do something."

"Okay."

That's the thing about Neji. He never says goodbye, because it apparently "insinuates that I'm never going to see you again."

Haa, okie dokie. Time to call Sakura. She normally has the scoop on all the "hott" guys, so I'm hoping she can tell me something I don't know about Sasuke.

"_Hello?_"

"Heyyy, Sakura. What's up?"

"_Not much. Working on an English paper due Wednesday."_

"Want to take a break and go to MegArt?"

Sakura _loves _MegArt. It's pretty cool, but I think a lot of the stuff is overpriced. Basically, you buy a piece of pottery and paint it yourself, and then they fire it for you. The first time I painted something, I didn't know that you couldn't paint on top of black, so my attempt at a school flag came out as a black slab of nothingness.

"_Sounds cool. I still have a couple of pieces already there that I'm working on. We never finished our plate, remember?" _

"Oh yeah! I completely forgot. Heh.. On a bit of a time limit now, aren't we? It's already past Thanksgiving."

See, we had been making something of a Thank-You plate for Sakura's parents. They've been letting me stay at their house for Christmas for the past seven years, and I can never think of the right way to repay them.

"_Nah, we have plenty of time. We're nearly done, anyway." _Sakura is a major optimist.

"Well, what time do you want to go?"

"_I can be ready in twenty minutes. Just meet me at the crosswalk."_

"Will do. See you in a bit."

"_Bye." _

_Click._

* * *

"So."

"What?"

We're still walking over to MegArt. It takes a good half hour to get there, but it'd take probably an hour longer if we bothered trying to drive. Traffic is _ridiculous. _

"I dunno. Something's up, Naruto. What is it?"

"Weeeelllllllll…"

She knows that 'weeeelllllllll.' Almost too _weeeelllllllll_, actually. Haha.

Oh great, she's stopping. And now, cue the… yep! There it is. Her 'you've got to be kidding me' look.

"Whaaat?" She's a little scary when she does this. Her eyes get all freaky like she's a lioness about to sink her claws into my neck.

"Naruto.. you just broke up with--"

"That was over a month ago." Why must people persist in talking about old break-ups? It certainly doesn't make anyone feel any better.

"Yeah, but it was on your _birthday, _Naruto."

"I know, I know. So shouldn't you be glad that I'm moving on?"

Now her expression softens, as if she's moving from 'mom mode' to 'mom-attempting-to-be-friend mode.'

"Are you?"

Ugh, I hate all of this gooey seriousness. Sakura is the only person who can make me feel this awkward.

"Sakura, I'm fine. I'm over it. Okay?"

"…Okay."

We don't say anything else for the rest of the walk… but I know it's coming. The inevitable questions and pervasive know-it-all looks.

Ah, here we are. I probably forgot to mention it, but my godfather is the manager here. He says that he moved here to keep an eye on me, but I think he just wanted to hit on young college girls. He's quite the perv.

"Hey, gramps. Can we get that plate we started working on a few months ago?"

"Hello, Jiraiya."

"Well, well, well." I swear, even if it isn't intentional, his grin always looks lewd. I have to wonder how he ever got this job.. "If it isn't Naruto and Sakura! Still looking for the right guy, Sakura? I keep telling you that he's been right in front of you the entire time…" He's been trying to get me and Sakura together since we were kids.

We did try it once. We were each others first kiss when we were both fifteen.. but we decided to just keep it between us.

"Please. You know I could never date someone as immature as Naruto."

"Hey! I take offense to that." I'm not _that _immature. Really.

"Yeah, I guess that 'Happy 5th Birthday!' card for Thanksgiving was just an honest mistake, huh, kiddo?" Well.. there's a difference between being immature and being a prankster. In my opinion, anyway.

"C'mon, just give us the plate. We have to have it finished before the holidays."

"Alright, alright. And don't forget to write Tsunade once in a while, got it? She keeps nagging me about how no one cares about her anymore." Tsunade is Jiraiya's ex-wife. They started an, um, erotic… toys company in the 70s. They broke up when Jiraiya turned up on the cover of Playgirl or something.

"Okaaaaaay, geez! Can we have the plate now?"

"Here. I put your brushes in the broken drawer underneath the erasers and pencils. Just push the knob up to pull it out."

I don't think I'm that good of a painter, but that doesn't mean that I don't need good brushes. I love the ones with the soft white bristles. And mine have orange handles. My favorite color is orange, by the way. I mean, come on. Did you know that orange is the same in both French _and _English? Yeah, that's right. Because it's awesome.

Anyway.

Sakura's working on the letters-- she has a good, steady hand. I couldn't paint a straight line to save my life, so I'm stuck doing some tiny poinsettia plants around the rim. It's pretty cool, I guess.

"Here, Naruto. Don't forget to wash off the paint before you start doing the leaves."

"Okay, mom."

Sakura hates when I call her that. Or she pretends to. I think that deep down, she actually likes it. She'd be a good mom, really. She worries about _everyone,_ and somehow always knows when you're feeling down. She claims that it's just woman's intuition, but I've never known anyone else like her.

"_Ahem._" She has this irritating, expectant look. I hate when people do that. It's like they expect me to somehow know exactly what they're thinking. I may be good at reading people, but I can't see straight into their minds.

"Yes?" Ah, who doesn't enjoy acting blissfully innocent? That _really_ irks her.

"Well, spill it. Who's the crush?"

"Um…" For some reason, I'm kind of reluctant to tell her. What if she has a secret crush on him too or something? Sakura has been known to like the mysterious, brooding types.

"Guy or girl?"

Okay, this makes it easier. Sakura likes guessing games, and in these situations, so do I.

"Guy."

"Older or younger?"

"Er… I dunno." I should probably figure that out…

"Year?"

"Same." I remember seeing him at the freshman seminar.

"Tall?"

"Meh."

"Hair?"

"Black."

"Eyes?"

"Black."

"Race?"

"Asian." Japanese, actually. I took two Japanese courses in high school. Uchiha means 'fan' or something.

"Butt?"

Well, that's a new one.

"Uhh… firm-looking?" His slacks make it rather hard to tell.

"Good, good." She's tapping the tip of the brush on her chin like a teacher. It's almost sort of funny. "But doesn't ring a bell. What's his name?"

So she doesn't know him. Excellentttt.

"Sasuke Uchiha." You know, his last name sounds kind of like a beat for a song or something. Ooh-chee-haa, ooh-chee-haa.. c'mon. You have to agree, it really does.

"Sounds familiar. Must be a real—wait. Uchiha… isn't that the transfer student who got like a 2380 on the SAT?"

"Sakura." She knows me better than this. I have no idea about test scores and whatnot.

"Oh, right." I can tell that she's thinking. Sakura is like an uber intelligent robot that has a magical database of every moderately attractive male ever to come within a twenty yard radius of her. Plus every moderately attractive male that she's only _heard _about. Not to say that Sasuke is only moderately attractive—I feel that I've made it clear how substantially _gorgeous _he is.

"I know! Why didn't I realize it before? He has to be the guy that Ino is always talking about." Ino is Sakura's roommate. She's hella annoying, but at least she might be able to help me figure some things out about him. "Is he really misanthropic?"

"Umm.." That means anti-social, right?

"It means that he dislikes people."

"Yeah, he never really talks to anyone… whenever I see him around, he's alone."

"That's him, all right. Well, Ino says that he's the son of some wealthy entrepreneur. He and his brother moved here with their mother a few years ago while their dad stayed in Japan. Apparently he wanted to go to some art school but got stuck here instead."

Art school… he's a genius _and _an artist? Is there anything he isn't? I think I just fell for him all over again.

"He seems like quite a catch, Naruto… but not really your type. Does he even know that you exist?"

"Please, Sakura, I'm sure he's—"

"I mean, would he be able to recognize you as someone other than the class clown?"

She may have a point. He probably doesn't know that I exist… but that doesn't matter, does it? I didn't know that he existed until however long ago, either.

"Look, Naruto. I'm not trying to discourage you. Just.. how do you plan on talking to him? He doesn't sound like the type of guy who's going to laugh at your jokes."

"That's what I was planning on asking you." She should know, shouldn't she? She's pretty popular with the guys, after all. I'm sure she knows the best way to go up to somebody and initiate a conversation without acting with zero percent tact.

"I've told you a million times, Naruto. Just go up and say 'hi.' It works with everyone."

"Ughhh, that's so lame. Seriously, you would give a guy a second look glance if he came up to you and said 'hi'? Give me a break."

"I would." Great, she's wagging her finger at me. I feel like a dog when she does this. "But not if he says it with the confidence that you would say it—that just makes you seem cocky."

"Uh huh."

"Or you could do nothing. Just sit around, being hopeful, praying that he suddenly notices your existence." Sarcasm is so banal these days. "We all know how well that works."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah.."

* * *

Well.

I'm taking Sakura's so-called advice.

It couldn't hurt. Could it? Maybe I should just go with my typical jo- no. No, I've already decided against that. Okay. I'm set on it.

Hi.

It's not that hard. Right. And I look good, don't I? Do you think I should wear a dressier shirt? Or slacks, maybe? I still have time to run back to the dorm and change, maybe even put a little gel in my-- no, no. I should be myself, you're right. Besides, who doesn't like The Beatles? Everyone likes The Beatles. Maybe he happens to love The Beatles, and looking at my shirt will make him fall for me like his voice made me fall for him. It's possible, you know. Stop that stupid smirking.

Oh, God. There he is. And there—there's the head duck. He doesn't even look around at all.. what if there was a serial killer standing right in the middle of the room? Well, he's probably a martial artist or something, too.

Okay, he's at his seat. He's checking his watch. Does he time himself to see how long it takes for him to get here or something? Now he's taking out his books.

This is it. I can feel it, all the way through my skin and into my bones. I'm probably shaking.

Maybe he won't notice.

I stand, and within seconds I'm already at his desk. He was closer than I thought.

Unsurprisingly, he doesn't look up. I place my hands on the front of his desk for stability, clearing my throat in a nervous sort of way that I've never done before.

He sets down his pencil. I take a deep breath, wanting to get it out before he raises his head and looks at me with those deliciously dark eyes.

"Hi."

* * *

To be continued... (: Please R&R, lovelies.


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